I fail to understand why the American Political Machine grants so much gravity to what the hell they think in Iowa. I get that it’s a swing state. I get that it’s “America’s Heartland”, full of working class, prideful voters, with a history and tradition of doing it for themselves. I get that the Iowa Caucus is the first major kick-off game of the championship play-offs in the winner-takes-all extravaganza that ends in Washington.

Big whoop-dee-whoop.

This ain’t readin’ tea leaves! This shouldn’t be a game of Follow-the-Leader! What Joe & Wendy Schmoe decide they like and want to do in Iowa shouldn’t have such a damn awe-inspiring, head-nodding influence on the rest of the other state races, damnit! Unfortunately, thanks in great part to the media and perpetuated by all sides, that’s exactly what it does. What a freaking bunch of lemmings Americans are.

We’ve got a line-up of frothy asshat morons babbling conspiracy theories to scare, lying kiss-ass promises to coddle, and enough thinly cloaked hatred of you-name-it to incite that I just want to slap everybody real hard up-side their heads and send them to bed without dinner…all the way out to OUTER SPACE!

But, see, now I’m getting all foamy at the mouth…and I have not even yet broke out the soap from this box I’m standing on, much less shoved it onto anybody’s tongue, especially not mine. Time to take a deep breath…sigh…and chillllll.

Now isn’t this picture of the flowerbeds outside The SlaveBox a hell of a lot nicer than anything out of Iowa tonight?

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Ok, that’s it. Talk amongst yourselves. Better yet, shut up and have a glass of wine. 🙂

All content copyright D. Kessler 2012. Unauthorized use strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

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I think the reason it’s been so silent here at Dy’s Mind’s Eye lately is because I’m just plain overloaded. Not by The Slave Box or by family…though those definitely have been taking their more-than-fair share out of me lately. No, I’m really talking about the media shit-storm.

We’ve got revolutions in Egypt and Bahrain. We’ve got funeral mourners being killed in Lybia and protests in Yemen and Morocco. We’ve got the working class under attack in Wisconsin and the GOP Fascist Asshats in Washington continuing their idiotic war against the poor, elderly, women and children. We’ve got Planned Parenthood and NPR and PBS fighting to stay alive. We’ve got the Seattle Police Department getting away with continued unwarranted brutal force…and even cold-blooded murder of a partially DEAF, drunk man with a CLOSED 3″ pocket knife…going unchecked, uncharged and unbelievable. I am just am all stopped up with all this crap and don’t know where to start. I’m flabbergasted. I’m so freaking angry at it all I’m just that cat in the corner that is spitting and hissing and can’t form words to express it all.

I WANT to write about each and every one of those horrific things and how it makes me angry and   sad and appalled. I WANT to rile you all up into action to DO something…ANYthing…about it. Any of it. All of it.  I just can’t get around my own mind. I’m stuck. I’m angry. I’m sick. I’m fucking in a state of blue screen shutdown.  I just don’t have the mental hard drive space to process, save and upload.

Overflowing GarbageYes, that sounds like a cop out…but I just can’t wrap my head around all of it. It’s too much. It all keeps falling out the sides and seams of my big bag of tricks, one topic at a time, in a torrent of cats and dogs falling from the sky sort of way. My A.D.D. keeps shifting from one topic to the other, trying to keep them all in order…hell, just inside the bag…until my orientation is off and my head is about to explode and then…Blue Screen of Death. Garbage Overload.

The logical little voice in the back of my head says, “Just pick one thing and focus on that. Write about one thing at a time.”

Yeah, I don’t know how to do that.

Not right now…not today. 

I’m going for a Mimosa, damn it. It’s Sunday and I’m worth it. And maybe it’ll quiet that nagging little voice in my head that keeps saying over and over, “Get on your soap box, it misses you…”

© 2011 D. Kessler